


If there's one thing I know (it's that I love you)

by OnlyZouzou



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Detective Bellamy Blake, Discussion of Abortion, Established Relationship, F/M, Med Student Clarke Griffin, Unplanned Pregnancy, overprotective bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyZouzou/pseuds/OnlyZouzou
Summary: If there's one thing Bellamy knows, it's that he didn't plan to find out about Clarke's pregnancy before she did. Now all he has to do is break the news to her...
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 72
Kudos: 271





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone. I hope you're all well. Here's a little fiction to take your mind off your worries for a moment. I hope you like it!
> 
> Best news ever: I found the best beta reader (or rather, she found me) in Lili. I couldn't have asked for anyone better, because she understands French and English perfectly and is therefore absolutely perfect for me. So this is my first fiction proofread and corrected by a beta, and if I can already see the difference, I hope you'll see it too. 
> 
> Thank you Lili! You're the best!

Clarke's pregnant.

Clarke is pregnant and Bellamy had no intention of finding out about it before she did. No. Absolutely not.

But here’s the thing, he's been worried about her lately.

She seems constantly exhausted, so much so that she gets distracted sometimes. And there's this dizziness that she's been feeling every time she shifts positions. And the meals she skips, pretending she's not hungry.

But  _ his _ Clarke is always so full of energy, so much so that it would be draining if he didn't find it cute. She's so meticulous and always thinks about everything, so much that what he thought was a virtue sometimes turns out to be her worst flaw. And if there's one thing that has always impressed him about his girlfriend, it's that she's able to eat as much food as he does, if not more.

So, Bellamy's worried. And if there's one thing Bellamy doesn’t know how to handle, it's his concern for the people he loves. Yet he should know by now that his mind has a way of transforming him from "harmlessly worried" to "madly anxious".

First, it's just a slight ripple at the edge of his thoughts. After nearly fourteen hours of sleep, Clarke thanks him for cooking her favorite breakfast, but refuses to taste her scrambled eggs.

Then, the ripple extends and reaches the shore where waves begin to form. Clarke returns to their apartment after two hours of class at ten AM. She doesn't even realize that he's still there in their bathroom finishing his daily shave. She makes a direct line from the door to their bed, where she crashes without even taking off her coat or shoes. She's already half asleep when Bellamy appears in the doorway, his face still covered in foam, and asks her what's going on. Barely coherent, she explains that she can't go to her anatomy lecture because she's too tired.

The harmless worry changes into dread and the waves rise threateningly high and dangerous. Clarke Griffin, first in class since her very first day of kindergarten, never late, never missing a class even when sick, always ahead of schedule, smart, hard-working, and talented, is refusing to go to class. Nothing is right anymore. The world must have stopped turning and Bellamy hasn't realized it yet. If Clarke starts skipping classes on the pretext that she doesn't need them, the apocalypse is coming. Somewhere in the world, hundreds of nuclear missiles are about to fall on people's heads.

In a daze, he takes off his girlfriend's clothes and tucks her into bed before going back and finishing shaving. When he returns to their bedroom to get dressed, she's already in a deep sleep. The fact that she's been sleeping for twelve hours at a time for several weeks, but still feels the need to sleep during the day doesn't seem to bother her. One thing is certain though: it bothers Bellamy.

When she wakes up five hours later, eats three crackers, dozes in front of the TV for an hour, then falls back asleep right next to him, the threatening waves curl in on themselves, destructive and relentless rollers, and Bellamy is no longer simply bothered. He is panicking.

Fortunately, he knows how to handle panicking (he doesn't).

He simply tries to convince himself that it's all in his head. He knows how he tends to overreact when he worries about people who are close to him. He knows that this anxiety can very quickly cause him to become overwhelming. He knows that it is partly because of these annoying behaviors that he has sometimes scared away the people around him. And if there's one person Bellamy doesn't want to scare away, it's Clarke.

He knows he shouldn't put words to such thoughts, because he's still young at twenty-six, and her even more so with her twenty-one candles just blown out, but Clarke is the one. 

He feels it deep down and can't imagine a life where she wouldn't be at his side. He’s loved her deeply for three years now. Three incredible years that he wants to repeat infinitely, that he wants to repeat as many times as he gets the chance.

It's this genuine love that turns panic into terror the first time she's overcome by vertigo. One second she's there, sitting across from him in their little kitchen, too busy pushing food off the edge of her plate to eat anything, but still there with him, talking and joking. The other second, she stands up to fill her glass with water, and there she is, stumbling. The glass crashes on the floor just before her, the shards of glass shatter on the wooden floor around the room, and Clarke collapses with them. She's just conscious enough to keep her head from hitting the floor.

Right away, Bellamy's there, next to her. His first impulse is to get her up, but she refuses and asks him to raise her legs. She is so pale, so frail, almost nonsensical, but he listens to her. After a few minutes, she regains color and enough strength to stand up, but only to scream in pain when she presses her palm to the ground and the piece of glass that was stuck in her flesh sinks even deeper under her skin.

When they go into the bathroom to remove the fragment, they find several more in her forearms and even one in her lower back that has pierced through her shirt. There is blood, so much blood, that Bellamy is on the verge of losing his composure. His hands are shaking as he undresses Clarke, then continue to tremble as he removes the pieces of glass, then again as he wipes the blood off and cleans the wounds.

Clarke doesn't say anything at first, and perhaps that's the scariest part. Bellamy knows that she learned to keep her cool even in the toughest situations. The hardships she's been through in life and her training to become a surgeon have taught her to remain calm and clear-headed in all circumstances. She has always known how to comfort him, even when it seemed impossible, even when his mother's breast cancer was discovered (she has been in remission for a year now), even when he was called to the ER because his sister had been in an accident (she has since fully recovered and is busy doing whatever the hell she wants). 

However, at that moment, she does not even bother to reassure him, to say that it's nothing, to say that everything will be fine. 

She could at least acknowledge that her condition is unusual and ask for help, Bellamy thinks. But no, she just sits there, on the edge of their little bathtub, staring at nothing. She seems almost gone, lost in another world. She lets him dress her wounds and put the bandages on without saying anything, and when Bellamy's gaze scans her face for a second between each movement that he fears might be painful, the young woman's eyes remain focused on the little stack of broken glass that keeps piling up. 

Until she finally observes, in a very small voice:

"Who would believe that such a small glass could shatter so much..."

For Bellamy, it's the last straw. He can't believe his ears. 

The worry that turned into concern, that turned itself into fear, that turned itself into terror... all those violent emotions that gently overwhelmed him, that swallowed him up, that tried to drown him, finally get the better of him. 

No matter how hard he tries to fight this part of him that is obsessed with control and with the well-being of the people he loves, he's not superhuman, and even less so when it comes to Clarke. He's lost so much already, survived so much already... But he can't lose Clarke. She's too important to him.

He had sworn that he wouldn't meddle, that he wouldn't intrude, that he'd let her take care of herself, but in the end, it's her complete disregard for her health and utter disinterest in what's been going on for weeks that tears down the last bit of his self-control.

The rush of adrenaline from the whirlwind of emotions that roars through him brings him to his feet suddenly. The tweezers he was using a second earlier to gently remove the shards of glass from Clarke's arm falls and clatters on the porcelain tub. Finally, Clarke looks up at him and meets his eyes.

She looks so fragile all of a sudden that Bellamy would almost feel guilty about letting his anxiety and anger pour out if they didn't completely control him at that very moment.

"Are you kidding me?" he shouts abruptly, and Clarke jumps at his unexpected outburst.

"I'm sorry," she mutters blushing, and Bellamy can't figure out if she's apologizing for being so careless with her well-being, or if she's calling him out to ask him why he's getting so upset.

Whatever the reason is, he can't let this go on like he let all the other signs go by before. And that's exactly what he tells her:

"Clarke, I didn't say anything when you were so tired you couldn't even go to school, when you were so tired you spent your weekends sleeping. I didn't say anything when you lost your appetite. I don’t say anything when you forget your lunch in the fridge and leave in the morning on an empty stomach, or when you barely eat a cookie during the day... But I just can't keep my mouth shut anymore. What's going on, Clarke?"

The young woman stares at him, taken aback. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out of it, as if the words she wanted to say and the excuse she wanted to give were stuck in her throat. Bellamy stands there, motionless, unable to calm down the frantic beating of his heart or his heavy breathing. He waits; waits for her to explain herself, to express herself, to say something but nothing comes out, and Bellamy finally understands:

"You didn’t realize?" he asks, astounded. "How is that possible, Clarke?" he demands. Between the two of us, aren't you supposed to be the doctor? We've barely seen each other for weeks and we live in the same apartment. The time you spend here with me, you spend it sleeping... I can't even remember the last time I saw you studying in the kitchen or just the last time you managed to watch an entire movie with me!"

This time Clarke frowns and mumbles:

"You're right, I'm tired right now, but that's no excuse to snap at me like that. Between school, work, and my internship at the hospital, I'm just having a hard time finding my rhythm, that's all! But it's not like I'm giving up on you-"

Bellamy cuts her off immediately. If there's one thing he knows, it's how sensitive Clarke is to the very idea of leaving the people who matter to her. She had had to make that choice before today, and she had been blamed heavily for it. Yet it took a lot of determination to let go of her mother when she refused to deal with her addiction or to break up with her first boyfriend when he was playing a double game. 

"That's not what I mean, Clarke. I don't feel rejected. I can see you're busy and can barely stay awake. How many times have I had to carry you to bed myself these past few weeks? This isn't about me. This is about you. It's not healthy to be this tired, you know that."

Stubborn to the bone, Clarke responds:

"Winter is coming. The days are shorters, it's probably only temporary. Perhaps I just miss the sunlight a little?"

Bellamy's mind softens with the memory of the last time they enjoyed the sunshine. Their last vacation, in the first days of September, had been wonderful. He sees the little yellow-walled cabin by the water again. The white sand of the beach in front of their door and the blue of the ocean as far as the eye can see. The afternoons basking in the sun, the evenings walking hand in hand, and the fervent nights sleeping skin to skin. 

However, these memories also bring to the surface of his thoughts images of a Clarke so full of life and joy, so different from the one he has in front of his eyes, that the bitterness that follows only worsens his anxiety.

So, when the young woman tries a weak:

"A simple vitamin cure and-"

He interrupts her again with:

"And is there also a cure to restore your appetite?"

She bites her lip and he recognizes the expression on her beautiful face. Frustration takes over her exhaustion and weakness and Bellamy is almost relieved to have reignited that spark in her.

"I'm doing the best I can, Bellamy. I'm eating enough food so I haven't lost any weight, anyway. I'm not going to let myself die-"

"Please stop, Clarke. Just don't-"

Clarke's always been an epicurean. As far as Bellamy's memory goes, she always enjoyed life 100%, always lived every moment 200%, always drank, and ate more than enough. She is the first to steal the fries from his plate and to rush into the kitchen when she smelled his famous cookies or scrambled eggs and bacon.

"What do you want me to say, Bellamy?"

And that's just the right question to ask. What does Bellamy want? He isn't sure at this moment. One thing is certain, he wants Clarke to get better. He'd like her to recover from the condition that's slowly draining her energy. He wants her to be herself again. If he gave in to his protective instincts, he would immediately drive her to the emergency room for tests. But it's not up to him, and Clarke knows him too well.

"Don't even think about taking me to the E.R. for tests, you know that-"

"If I listened to myself, I'd leave you no choice, Clarke. But I know why you don't want to overcrowd up the E.R., and I respect that."

"Not if there's no--"

"-No life-threatening emergency, I know, I know," he finishes for her.

He knows the song well enough to have heard it dozens, if not hundreds of times.

Yet he would like Clarke to stop putting others before herself for once. He never thought that the virtue he loved so much about her would one day become his worst enemy.

Already helpless, Bellamy sighs and runs a shaking hand through his brown curls, trying to find the right words, the ones that won't hurt her, the ones that will make her understand how worried he is, how much she means to him, how much-

"I love you, Clarke," he settles on.

Although visibly upset and exhausted, the young woman can't hold back the smile which blossoms on her lips at these words. She nods and whispers:

"I know," with the certainty of one who already has heard these three little words a hundred times.

"I'm just afraid that-"

It's too much. His voice catches in his throat and Bellamy can't finish the sentence he started, can't admit the nightmares which haunt him day and night. He remembers too well how his mother had taken too long to see a doctor back then; how Octavia and he had thought it was already too late for her; how scared they were that her breast cancer was too advanced already; how they feared that she would never win her battle against it. Bellamy doesn't want to go through that again, he can't.

"Hey..."

Clarke's heart breaks in her chest at Bellamy's expression. She grabs his hand to pull him closer to her. As soon as she reaches him, he takes her in his arms, wraps her gently enough to not stir her wounds, but strong enough so that she feels protected, loved, comforted.

"I'm fine, Bellamy. I'm here..."

Unfortunately, it's already too late for him. The wheels of his anxiety are in motion and their course is now unstoppable. These are the words Bellamy has been waiting for weeks, but now they sound hollow, hold no meaning, no weight among the dark and terrifying thoughts that are torturing the young man.

So, when she finally admits that she's indeed more tired than usual lately, and promises him that she will take the time to eat better and rest properly and that if in a few weeks she doesn't feel better, she will go to see a doctor, Bellamy doesn't hear her. No, the gears turn and turn, their mechanical sound is muffling the voice of the woman he loves. Despite him, a plan forms itself inside his brain. A plan that will ensure that Clarke is in no danger. 

Sure, she won't like it if she finds out... She'll be furious, even, but what's a little bit of anger compared to all the risks she's taking by choosing to do nothing?

"Bellamy"? Are you listening to me?"

The young man shakes his head to focus his attention on the moment. When he looks up and meets the calm ocean of Clarke’s eyes, he makes his choice. He won't let anything happen to her. Not if he can help it.

"I'm sorry," he says and doesn't even know if he's apologizing for his reaction today or in advance for his actions of tomorrow.

Clarke smiles at him and lays a gentle kiss on his cheek before turning to the sink to start cleaning and tidying up. Immediately, Bellamy stops her.

"Leave it, I'll take care of it."

For a second, she looks like she's about to protest but finally decides to leave the bathroom, leaving Bellamy free to carry out his plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update! thank you for your support, the next update will be longer, I promise!  
> Again, a lot of love for my beta Lili <3

The important thing to know about Bellamy is that he's a police officer. A detective, to be specific. And on top of being a detective, he has this natural charisma that makes any relationship easy. It’s by using those relationships that he executes his plan.

"I need a favor. No questions asked."

At those words, Monty looks up from his screen and raises his eyebrows, questioningly. Bellamy can read the thoughts on his face like an open book. First the surprise, then the dozens of questions that pop into his head. Just as Monty is about to open his mouth to ask them, he's reminded of Bellamy’s request: "no questions asked". So he closes his mouth and swallows back his questions. This is one of the reasons why Monty is one of his best friends. His loyalty and devotion are absolute.

"I'm listening."

Bellamy puts his bag on the scientist's desk and extracts several unreferenced samples, protected in a small plastic bag that the scientist recognizes as a freezer bag. 

"I need a blood test on these samples."

He hands the bag to his lifelong friend and colleague, making sure not to let any emotion show on his face when he picks it up. Monty's dark eyes navigate from it to Bellamy, and from Bellamy back to the bag. 

"Wh-," he begins.

"One favor. No questions asked," Bellamy interrupts him.

The young man frowns but nods his agreement.

"What kind of analyses?"

Bellamy thinks and then:

"All of them?"

"You do realize you're in a forensic lab here, not a medical lab?"

Bellamy sighs.

"Just do what you can, Monty. I just need to know if... if this person is all right."

"Okay”, he relents. “Consider it done."

What Bellamy is far from expecting is Monty's efficiency on this. The day is coming to an end and he's finishing his paperwork when the scientist appears in front of his desk and asks him for a private conversation, claiming he has received some analysis report for their last investigation.

Immediately, the anxiety in the back of his mind, asleep from the activities of his day, awakens and roars. Shaking, Bellamy closes the door of the lab behind them and asks:

"What's up?"

Monty looks uncomfortable and it doesn't help calm Bellamy’s anxiety. 

"You owe me one, man," says Monty. "I had to go so far as to ask Jackson for some more analysis for this..."

Bellamy winces. Even if they're on good terms, asking a favor to his ex-boyfriend's new boyfriend can't be easy.

"And?"

"And I had to make it look like it was a sample of my blood because Jackson has "ethics”.”

"And?"

"And imagine my surprise, and Jackson's, when he told me that I was pregnant."

 _Pregnant_.

One word and the whole universe disappears around Bellamy. He's unaware of Monty's annoyed face, or the angry way he clasps the result sheet to his chest and snaps:

"I assume this is about Clarke?"

Bellamy's mind is blank and it must show in his eyes because Monty doesn’t wait for an answer. 

"Congratulations."

Bellamy can't even react, just nodding his head.

"Does she even know about this? You know a pregnancy test would have been a lot easier and quicker, right? And would have had the benefit of not making me look like an idiot?"

_Pregnant. Clarke. Doesn't know._

Bellamy turns pale, his heart is beating so fast, he thinks he's about to faint.

"That's what I thought", mumbles Monty, exasperated. "Nothing's ever easy with you two, anyway. Good luck with breaking the news, dude. Nothing like "Babe, you're going to be a mum and I learned this before you did because I asked two of our mutual friends to run a blood test on you without even telling you" to strengthen a relationship.”

Monty shakes his head, half-desperate, half-embarrassed for his friend, and leaves the room without another word, but not before rubbing a hand on his shoulder to show his unwavering support. That's Monty, incredible empathy, and a heart of gold. Despite his disapproval, he couldn't help but sympathize with Bellamy.

"Pregnant," Bellamy repeats to himself, unable to grasp all the reality hidden behind that single word.

_"What have I done?"_

The few minutes between the end of his shift and the time he'll return to Clarke won't be enough to untangle the endless knot of his problems. 

Questions shock and clash in his head, finding no answers, and creating even more questions to which he has even fewer answers.

Slowly, yet all too quickly, the big clock above his head moves towards the end of the day and Bellamy can only watch Miller, Harper, and Monty pack up their things, grab their coats, and head for the exit. He finds himself unable to follow them. As he passes by, Monty gently taps him on the back and whispers a "good luck" that does nothing to help his state of mind.

His phone rings and brings him out of his reverie. On the screen is a message from Clarke.

"Hey, I'm about to go home. Can you pick up takeout from Nyko's for tonight? I'm so hungry! And we can watch the documentary you've been wanting to see for weeks on Netflix."

Bellamy's heart is melting. If he wasn't already madly in love with Clarke, he'd probably be falling for her all over again. However, the olive branch she holds out to him as a peace offering to show she wants to make an effort tastes bitter. Behind the relief of seeing her finally taking care of herself lays the taste of his betrayal.

Another message flashes and Bellamy turns paler:

"Oh, and if you go to the supermarket, we're out of beer."

There, Bellamy doesn't have a choice anymore. No matter how he does it and what he says, he'd better tell Clarke about her pregnancy as soon as possible.

***

Bellamy is frozen in front of the baby section when his phone rings. He has no idea how he got there, or for how long he's been standing there, lost in thought. Clarke's face lights up on his screen, and he stares at the photo of the young woman in a daze before answering.

"Hello?"

"Bellamy? I was starting to get worried. Where are you?"

He clears his throat as his gaze catches on the line of bibs hanging right in front of his eyes.

"I'm at the supermarket."

"Okay... When do you think you'll be home?"

Unable to focus, he turns his back on the row of baby equipment, only to come face to face with dozens of bottles and baby dummies of all kinds.

"Bellamy?" Clarke asks, a hint of concern in her voice over his unusual silence. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes, sorry. I'm almost finished actually. I'm on my way to the checkouts, I'll be there in about ten minutes."

"Cool."

A silence, then:

"About yesterday... I just wanted to tell you... I'm sorry, Bellamy. I didn't realize how tired I was. I was barely able to concentrate in class today, and I slept for two hours when I got home from school... I think you're right. I'll call Jackson first thing in the morning and ask him for a consult."

Bellamy closes his eyes, overwhelmed with unbearable guilt. For a second, he lets his emotions take over and wreck him. He deserves to feel this bad, that's for sure. If only he had waited a few more hours, everything would have worked itself out. All he had to do was wait and trust the woman he loves.

"It's me who's sorry, Princess..." he whispers, his voice choked with regret.

To the familiar nickname, Clarke lets out a small laugh before adding:

"I'm sorry I worried you. I know how hard it must have been for you to keep quiet all this time... I love you and--and I hate it when we're mad at each other.

"I love you too, Clarke."

"Just come home, okay?"

"Okay, I'll see you later."

His fingers are shaking when he presses the hang-up button on his phone. The image of Clarke darkens as the screen locks and if Bellamy had been in the liquor section, he'd probably open a bottle and take a sip to soothe his nerves.

He struggles to realize the extent of his mistake and yet he can't deny his lapse of judgment. And there aren't a hundred solutions, he just has to face the situation he put himself in now.

So Bellamy wanders through the baby section, while still going over the same thoughts and the same facts, over and over again. The same thoughts that led him here in the first place without him paying attention.

_Clarke is pregnant._

If he's honest with himself, he can’t deny that this fact fills him with doubts, apprehensions, and fears about the future. But first and foremost: he feels joy. 

He knows from having already discussed it with her, that Clarke wants children one day, and he has never hidden his desire to start a family with her, so to deny the happiness of seeing his dreams come true would be hypocritical.

Yes, the timing is not perfect. He has just started his career as a detective and Clarke is in the middle of her internship. Still, Bellamy is willing to make any sacrifice for the well-being of his family like he has always been willing to do. If he has to take a few months of parental leave to stay at home with their child, it will be far from a burden to him. Besides, their family and friends all live in the same city and will surely be more than happy to help them if asked.

Also, Bellamy knows that a daycare has just opened in the hospital where Clarke is doing her internship, the same hospital where Abby and Jackson work. The precinct's only a few blocks from the place, which is ideal.

Their apartment's a little small with only one bedroom, and inconvenient too, being on the third floor with no elevator. But Bellamy has been wanting to move for a while now. It would be the perfect opportunity to make this idea that has been stuck in his mind for several months now come true, and find a house with a small garden that’s a little closer to his work and Clarke's? 

They could even move closer to their respective families, and to be honest, he's already looking forward to telling his sister and his mother the news. They will be so happy for them, that he's already smiling just thinking about it. He can imagine Abby and Marcus might be a little more reluctant, especially considering Clarke's young age, but Bellamy knows he'll prove himself worthy of the trust they've placed in him. 

So, even though the circumstances of this news are a little unfortunate, he can only admit that this surprise makes him happy and fills him with hope for the future. And it's with this fresh and irrepressible enthusiasm that his eyes fall on the cutest outfit he's ever seen. It's a simple white unisex bodysuit with a plain black inscription that says:

_"My mom is the best mom in the world."_

Immediately, his heart fills with an unfamiliar emotion whose main component seems to be love. This unknown rush of affection spreads through him with warmth, making him a little dizzy. It's this feeling that leads him to unhook the piece of clothing from the rack and put it in his shopping basket before going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, comments and kudos always make my day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! How is everyone is doing today? Welcome in the Angst part of this fiction *insert evil laugh here*
> 
> Thank you Lili, you're like my own betâ-miracle, I can't believe I've found you and working with you is a privilege...

Two knocks echo on their apartment door and Clarke frowns. She's sure neither she nor Bellamy were expecting someone tonight. She mutes the television and gets up from the couch to open the door, raises her eyebrows in disbelief when she discovers Bellamy on the other side of the door.

"Hey, why are you knocking? Have you lost your keys?"

Her voice seems to bring him back to reality and he stares at her with dark eyes before turning his gaze away, as if embarrassed.

"No," he replies, looking suddenly panicked. "Well yes, I mean no, it's just that I had my hands full," he justifies himself while lifting the bags he's carrying.

"Oh."

Clarke opens the door wider and steps forward to remove one of the bags from his hands to help him.

"No, let me do it!" he exclaims just before she grabs it.

It's weird, but not uncommon, that the young man stubbornly tries to protect her and do everything for her when she doesn't feel well. So she just nods and mutters an "ok" and closes the door behind them while Bellamy puts his bags on their kitchen counter.

When she comes to wrap her arms around his waist and lays her head over his shoulder blades, she feels him stiffen briefly before finally relaxing. He rests his hands on her forearms and squeezes briefly.

"Well, hello to you too," he says, a smile in his voice.

"I missed you," she replies in the crook of his neck.

He turns around in her embrace and wraps his arms around her as well, then puts a kiss on her forehead and answers:

"We saw each other this morning, though."

"I told you, I hate it when we start the day angry..."

"Well, I'm not angry now. Not anymore."

"Neither am I," she whispers, raising her pretty face to his and offering a shy smile before putting her lips to his.

He responds softly to her kiss, almost too softly for her taste, she lets out a sigh full of her desire to deepen it but he takes a step back. Unaware of her disappointment, he turns towards the table, leans over the shopping bags, and starts to empty their contents to stash them away. She steps up to help him, but he shakes his head...

"I'll do it, don't worry. Nyko's meals are right over there if you want to set the table..."

Once again taken aback by his behavior, she doesn't say anything, grabs the bag, and heads to the living room corner of their large main room, sets up the still-warm food containers, drinks and towels on their coffee table before sitting on their couch to wait for him.

"So, how was your day?" she asks, raising her voice a little to carry it to their kitchen, over the sound of unpacking.

"Fine."

The short, dry answer makes her frown.

"Did you solve any cases today?"

A silence, then, awkwardly:

"Yes, you could say that."

"That's good. And how are the others? Miller, Harper?"

"Um, I haven't seen them much today, mostly just did paperwork and hung around the lab."

"Ah, you must have seen Monty, then. How is he?"

A loud "BANG" echoes from their kitchen, followed by a scream, then a muffled insult. Clarke leaps to her feet.

"Bellamy? Is everything all right?”

The water running from their faucet and the flood of curses that follow is her only answer. Worried, she returns to their kitchen to find a bloodied-faced Bellamy leaning over the sink with a wet paper towel over his wound.

"Bellamy!" she exclaims as she rushes to his side. "What's happened?"

The young man seems more annoyed by his clumsiness than upset by his injury.

"It's nothing, I'm fine. I hit the closet door. I didn't realize it was still open."

"You're bleeding, let me see.”

Reluctantly, he cuts off the water and removes the paper from his forehead. A nasty cut appears under Clarke's eyes and she inspects it for a few seconds before stating that he won't need stitches. She makes him sit on one of the stools surrounding their kitchen island and then quickly runs into the bathroom to get antiseptic and band-aids before proceeding to take care of her boyfriend.

While she cleans the wound, Bellamy remains strangely quiet. One of his hands is still on his thigh, but the other sits on Clarke's hip, drawing soft patterns with his fingertips. Once the bandage has been applied, she drops a kiss on his forehead, smiling, and then throws the papers in the trash can just behind her.

"Good as new," she says as she turns to the island.

There, on the table, a gift box catches her eye.

"What is this?"

Bellamy wiggles on his seat, tries to half protest and raises his arm, but is not fast enough to prevent her from picking up the bag.

"Is that for me?" she asks, smiling.

"Yes, but-"

She interrupts him with a big smile and a "thank you", already starts to open the bag and Bellamy suddenly finds herself unable to say anything. The sound of his heart beating wildly in his ears seems to make him deaf and dumb, and it's as if he's witnessing a sudden crash at a slow speed. No matter how much he would have wished to clear the way, apologize first, explain second, and then break the news... No matter what he had planned or hoped for, Clarke unwraps his present, pulls the immaculate outfit out of the package, unfolds it, and just stares at it.

Bellamy slowly watches her expression go from pleased, to surprised, to puzzled, to completely confused.

"Bellamy... What is this?" she finally asks, putting the garment on the table.

The black inscription on the white onesie seems to taunt him as he is searching for the right words.

"Is this some kind of joke? Is this-" Clarke stammers, frantically looking for the answers in his eyes, "Please, just talk to me..."

Bellamy can feel that Clarke is on the verge of some kind of panic attack.

In her big blue eyes that he loves so much, he can see the thoughts that run through her mind at breathtaking speed; he sees the moment she realizes that he's far from joking when she understands in his behavior what he's trying to tell her. He watches the spark in her bright eyes as she counts the days since her last period and puts the puzzle pieces back together. Slowly, she moves her left hand to her still-flat stomach and holds a short breath, as if running out of air, and there is no way Bellamy can stay still, no way he can leave her like that. 

The urge to move forward and rest his own hand on hers is almost a survival instinct.

"Clarke, I- You-you're pregnant."

She releases the breath she was holding and her hand trembles a little beneath his, as does her voice when she asks:

"How?"

She still refuses to look into his eyes when he answers.

"Well, I'm not sure of the exact time, but it probably happened during our beach holiday in September..."

They spent so much time having sex, everywhere and all the time, that condom use soon became optional, leaving them relying solely on Clarke's pill.

"I'm not asking you how it’s possible," Clarke clarifies. "I'm asking you how you can know..."

It's like a bucket of ice-cold water spills over their heads. Bellamy takes his hand away as Clarke slides hers from her belly to support herself on the counter behind her.

Embarrassed, the young man runs a hand through his hair and rubs the back of his neck.

"How, Bellamy?" now demands Clarke in front of his silence. 

"I was worried," he finally says. "I love you, and seeing you like this, always so tired, barely eating... It made me so terrified for you and- You were just a shadow of your usual self, Clarke. And I couldn't leave you like that. I couldn't just do nothing."

"I told you I was gonna take care of it myself, Bellamy. Earlier and even yesterday, I promised you I'd be more careful, after I fell and cut myself, I-"

The words die in her throat and her eyes widen with understanding.

"Is this what you did? Bellamy, don't tell me you had my blood tested?! Please..."

Bellamy's heart beats so fast it feels like it's going to explode in his chest. He feels trapped by his own mistakes, unable to get out without shooting himself in the foot. Maybe that's why, instead of listening to his head, laying low, and opting for defense, his heart takes over his logic and forces him to attack.

"What else was I supposed to do, Clarke?" he bursts out.

Immediately, her blue eyes fill with tears that she refuses to let fall, and her voice shakes as she retorts, yelling too:

"You could have trusted me in the first place!”

In front of their surprising outbursts, each of them abruptly withdraws, and the calm returns in the kitchen. Silence hovers, heavy, unbearable, as a cold distance sets in between them.

"I'm not your mother, Bellamy. Not your sister... Not Gina," Clarke finally whispers, exhausted.

And that was the whole damn problem, wasn't it? 

Bellamy had almost lost Aurora when she delayed consulting a doctor and her sickness and dizziness turned out to be breast cancer. He had almost lost Octavia when her craving for thrills and adrenaline caused her motorcycle accident. Eventually, he had driven Gina away, as his dark side and demons became too much for her to bear, pushing her away by trying to keep her close. It’s almost like he could never find the right balance.

But Clarke was different. Clarke was the person who centered him, who kept him in balance, who had accepted him entirely, and who loved him for the best and the worst parts of him. He was so lucky to have her. And now Bellamy was afraid. Scared that once again, his fears and need to control everything were driving away one of the most important people in his life. Paralyzed with fear at the thought of losing not only the woman of his life but the family he has always wanted to build with her with this child growing within her.

"I'm sorry, Clarke," he says as genuine as he can. "The second I read the results, I regretted what I did. But, I can't go back, what's done is done... I can't describe how deeply sorry I am for crossing those lines..."

Finally, the ocean of Clarke's eyes overflows and drips salty tears down her cheeks. Once again, her hand comes unconsciously to rest on her belly. She takes a deep breath and asks, her voice broken:

"Do you? Regret it?"

Bellamy guesses the hidden question beneath the words in the same way that he has always been able to tell what she was thinking, in the same way Clarke has always been able to read through his heart and soul.

"I do regret the way I handled it, yes. But this baby--" He swallows painfully when the emotion becomes too overpowering. "I want your forgiveness first, Clarke. But when I think about it and consider it- what I am feeling first is just joy and- I love you so much."

It takes all the strength within him not to cross the short distance between the two of them to hold her in his arms and fulfill his need to touch and comfort her. But suddenly Clarke wipes away her tears and asks a question he couldn't have possibly fathomed.

"So I have no choice, is that it? You say you love me. You imply that you already love this baby, you drop this mind-blowing news on me, and I have no choice."

"What do you mean, Clarke?"

"What if I'm not ready? What if I don't want children?"

He holds up a trembling hand and can't help but respond:

"You've always told me that you wanted kids..."

"Yes, someday! Not now, not like this."

This time, panic overwhelms her and Bellamy wants to help her, but he's crushed by the weight of her words and doubts, and can only listen as she adds:

"I'm too young, I- what about my studies? I'm training to be a doctor, I can't- What about this apartment?"

"Clarke, slow down a minute. We can figure this out, _together_ , I'm sure we can make it work."

"There's no "together" anymore. Ever since you forced those tests on me, Bellamy, and dropped that news on me without giving me time to freak out and process it. There was no "together" when you went behind my back, why should there be a "together" now?"

Bellamy's heart shatters and he can see Clarke's heart cracking in her chest from the way she's holding herself. Her fists are clenched and her bottom lip trembles as she desperately tries to stop herself from crying.

"Clarke, please let me help you, I-"

She stops him with one hand, closes her eyes like she can't bear to see him in front of her anymore, but Bellamy can't stop himself from going on, can't let her believe that he would force her to do anything.

"Please, Clarke. I'm so sorry. I don't want you to feel pressured into anything. Please, believe me. Whatever you choose, you have to know I'll be there for you, to support you no matter what."

When Clarke opens her eyes, he doesn't recognize the glow in her eyes. And when she opens her mouth to speak, he also doesn't recognize the cold distance of her voice. Then, the words she utters destroy him.

"I'm not sure that's what I want, either."

Bellamy has no idea how he finds the will to keep himself up after that. If there's one thing he does know, it's that it's the only energy he has left. He finds he doesn’t have enough strength to stop Clarke from getting out of the kitchen or to hold her back when she's packing a bag in a hurry, or when she puts on her coat and sets her hand on the doorknob of their apartment. 

He uses his deepest buried resources to whisper one final word:

"Clarke-"

But the young woman doesn't turn back, doesn't look at him, and the last words he hears from her end up turning the last pieces of his broken heart into dust.

"Don't call me."

She doesn’t storm out, she doesn’t slam the door, she just gently closes it behind her and this somehow makes it all worse. The click of the lock startles him. 

Bellamy finds himself alone in their apartment, in an oppressive silence. Alone in the living room with the cold meals that he and Clarke will never eat. Alone with, on their kitchen table, the proof that he has once again managed to ruin everything. Alone with only his eyes to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think about it so far!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I got a little carried away while writing this and oops, there are now 5 chapters instead of 4. This one is a little transitory, I hope you'll like it! 
> 
> I'll say it again and continue to say so, Lili, you're my personal hero. Thank you for helping me with this! <3

In the three years of their relationship, including nearly two years of living together, never before had a fight taken Clarke and Bellamy apart for the night. Whatever the reason for their argument, they were both too stubborn to go to bed before it was settled once and for all.

Maybe that's why, once Clarke is (un)comfortably lying on Raven's couch, she can't seem to fall asleep.

She turns and turns, unable to switch her brain off. She keeps replaying their evening in her mind, every word they've exchanged, every expression Bellamy made, even if it breaks her heart over and over again. She tries to understand how she got here, how she missed the fact that she was pregnant, even as she is struggling to realize her new reality. 

She delves into every memory she has, from the end of September and their ocean vacation to tonight. The endless exhaustion, the random sickness, the loss of appetite, the unrelenting dizziness, and the way her emotions seem to be all over the place lately... She wonders how she didn't notice it before. She's a doctor, for God's sake!

However, she was so caught up in her studies, her daily routine, her exams, and her internship at the hospital...She blamed the stress and the challenges of her job for all her symptoms, even ignoring the most obvious one, and forgetting that her period should have happened more than a month before...

For the umpteenth time, Clarke grabs her phone from the coffee table beside her and unlocks the screen. Right away, the messages exchanged with Bellamy appear on the screen. The last text he sent her glows on the screen. It’s a simple "sorry", along with the picture of her test results but it still manages to break her heart again.

Clarke had only needed a glance at the picture to see that she was indeed pregnant (and also anemic, but that wasn't a surprise given her state of fatigue). That didn't stop her from reading the results over and over again.

Once again, tears rush to her eyes. She locks the phone and puts it back on the table before turning on her back and tries to breathe calmly through her nose. She forbids panic from overwhelming her, guilt from getting the better of her, and feelings from clouding her judgment. 

Despite her best efforts, her hands land on her flat stomach. She finds it hard to imagine that in a few months it will be prominent. But a baby is growing and developing inside of her, already sharing with her all sorts of things: oxygen, nutrients, blood... At the moment, it is about the size of a blueberry and is already producing some of its vital organs.

Clarke clamps her palms over her eyes and grunts in frustration. Damn these medical lectures and her recent internship in obstetrics! The young woman certainly didn't need all that extra knowledge to keep her awake.

Unfortunately, when she tries not to think about the possible future of this baby, her thoughts bring her back to Bellamy, which does nothing to help her mind calm down. 

The different expressions on his face are haunting her, and she relives the guilt, joy, and despair he displayed during their conversation. Doubt and sadness also help keep her memories alive, and Clarke is  _ thrilled _ with the show her brain is giving her. All she is asking for is a little break. After all, she too has to deal with her guilt, despair, doubts, and sadness. And she also has to try to understand the emotion that is bubbling up beneath the surface of the rest of her feelings and that she cannot yet grasp.

When the sun begins to shine through the blinds of Raven's living room, she finally gives up any hope of rest. Clarke gets up, folds the blanket her friend gave her, and piles the stuff on one corner of the couch. Her best friend, always up early in the morning, appears in the kitchen at the same time as Clarke starts looking in the cupboard for breakfast. 

She has no appetite, but still has to try to eat something, if not for herself, then at least for the baby--

It's at that moment, that exact moment when Clarke puts her needs and desires after those of the life growing inside her that she understands. She has no intention of not keeping this child. The sudden realization freezes her on the spot and leaves her empty of any other thoughts and emotions. Her legs begin to falter, causing her to suddenly have to sit on one of the chairs surrounding Raven's kitchen table.

The brunette, too busy taking out mugs and plates, doesn't notice Clarke's demeanor and asks:

"Coffee?"

"No, thank you," replies Clarke, still helplessly unable to regain her grip on reality. 

Surprised, Raven snorts loudly and turns to the blonde with an inquisitive and curious look. Clarke is pretty much known for her coffee addiction, and Raven is known for making the best cup of coffee the blonde’s ever had. The two young women often joke that this is the whole reason for their friendship in the first place. 

"Why, are you pregnant or something?" Raven jokingly asks.

It's Clarke's turn to snort. Without thinking she answers:

"Yeah, but that's not the point. The fact that pregnant women aren't allowed to drink coffee while they're pregnant is a myth. As long as I don't inject it into myself through an IV, it's safe for the fetus, so I could say yes to one or two cups a day with no problem if I had managed to sleep last night and wasn't afraid that the caffeine would make me even crazier than I already am."

"Oh, my God, what?"

Raven's exclamation at her rant brings Clarke back down to earth. When her blue eyes finally meet her friend's mocha, she realizes what she just confessed.

"You're pregnant?" Raven asks.

Clarke's heart pounds in her chest.

" Yes?"

"Oh, my God!" Raven repeats, tumbling into the chair next to Clarke, looking shocked.

"Yes."

"Is that why you came over here last night? What about Bellamy? What happened?"

At the name of the man she loves more than anything, tears fill Clarke's eyes and she doesn't want to blame the hormones and give in to the cliché of the hyper-emotional pregnant woman, but it doesn't help, okay? The fact that she hasn't slept for over twenty-four hours doesn't help either. And the concern, care, and love in Raven's eyes do nothing to make things better. So, yes, Clarke starts crying, and since it's not really in her nature, Raven doesn't know exactly how to react. She takes her in her arms awkwardly, whispering reassuring words that Clarke can barely hear through her sobs, but her soothing tone slowly makes its effect. 

After a few minutes, Raven loosens her embrace from Clarke's shoulders and hands her a tissue with which the blonde wipes her tears.

"I'm screwed, Raven," she stutters as soon as she can talk properly.

"No, Clarke, don't say that..."

"I am so screwed, Raven. I just realized I wanted to keep this baby and yet I managed to push away the very person who wants to keep both of us."

When the tears start coming back, Raven jumps in:

"Okay, first of all, there's no way you could've pushed Bellamy away enough to lose him. I mean, that man would probably want you even if that baby was someone else's..."

"Raven!"

"It's the truth, Clarke! Bellamy is crazy about you. He would never let you go, especially now that you're carrying his child."

When Clarke's tears redoubled at the sheer truth, Raven sighs, already frustrated by this display of emotion.

"I'm thrilled you're expecting, Clarke. And I call dibs on Godmother, but I'm not sure I'm the right person to deal with your pregnancy hormones."

At those words, Clarke lets out a nervous chuckle. She dries her tears one last time, and can't help but notice that underneath her sarcasm, Raven seems moved as well. 

"I'm sorry," she says.

"You are forgiven. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to ask you all the questions I refrained from asking you yesterday when you showed up at my door in tears and forbade me from asking you anything.

Once again, Clarke lets out a chuckle and nods at her friend's request.

"Okay, so how about you start explaining to me why you're here instead of your apartment? Who's gonna stop Bellamy from starting to paint your bedroom walls unisex yellow? I bet he's already bought all the newborn stuff online by now!”

Clarke takes a deep breath and gathers all her strength before going into the story of everything that happened the day before. What she thought would be a long and tedious story to tell finally turns out to be quite simple to explain to her best friend, who doesn't seem surprised by the situation. After all, Raven has known Clarke for several years and Bellamy for even longer.

"If I understand correctly, you have once again been reckless with your health; Bellamy has once again been overprotective with the person he loves; you wanted, unsurprisingly, to be independent to control things and he needed, unsurprisingly, to control things to stay in control of his life. And that's what it all came down to," she concludes, pointing at Clarke vaguely.

"Exactly," replies the young woman in a small voice, stunned by the way Raven identified their entire problem in just a few minutes. 

Clarke knows she should stop underestimating her best friend. She's an astronaut for God's sake! If there's one person who doesn't have to prove to the world that she's smart, it's Raven.

"And you're going to tell me you're surprised?" she asks.

This time, Clarke doesn't know what to say.

"Come on, Clarke. It's so like you guys that it's hardly the most surprising thing that's happened since you've been together, honestly. Remember when we all thought Bellamy and Octavia would never speak to each other again because she wouldn't let him date you? That was surprising!"

At the painful memory, Clarke winces. At the time, she didn't understand the hatred her boyfriend's sister had for her. She had had to learn how they had grown up and all the hardships they had gone through for her to forgive the young woman, and it had taken Octavia even longer to accept Clarke into her brother's life. Clarke had thought that Bellamy was never going to speak to her sister again when she had once asked him to choose between her and Clarke, and Bellamy had shocked both girls by choosing Clarke. 

"You're right."

"Of course I'm right, I'm awesome," Raven laughs before going on. "Bellamy couldn't have reacted any differently. Just like you can't seem to take care of yourself first and other people second."

However, even if Raven is indeed telling the truth, it doesn't change the frustration Clarke has been feeling since Bellamy admitted that he ran a blood test without her consent.

“The fact that this is part of his personality doesn’t make what he did behind my back okay, Raven-”

"Let me finish, Clarke, please," Raven cuts her off right away. "What I was going to say is that you are Bellamy and Clarke. You love each other unconditionally. You've basically reinvented the concept of forgiveness. Forgiving each other is part of who you are together. So, everything's going to be okay, Clarke. Even if you're angry, which I understand. Even if Bellamy's probably going out of his mind by now, I know you'll find the strength to move on, to make decisions together, and to forgive each other. You'll grow from this hardship, no matter the outcome, and I-"

Clarke wraps both of her arms around Raven's neck and hugs her tightly.

"Thank you, Raven," she whispers.

"You're not going to cry over me again, are you?" the young woman asks. "I haven't even had my coffee yet, it's too early for that."

Clarke detects the smile in her voice, but also the raw emotion in the way her tone sounds closed-up.

"I agree. It's definitely too early for that," Clarke says as they release each other, without crying this time.

Clarke watches her best friend get up and turn to her kitchen cupboards and can almost swear that Raven wipes the corner of her eye before asking in a slightly too cheerful voice if she'll survive the smell of early morning eggs in case she makes a tomato omelet, despite her pregnancy. Clarke laughs and assures her that she will, even though she finds out a few minutes later that the smell of early morning eggs is in fact quite unbearable.

Once her breakfast has been eaten and her emotions settled, the young woman gathers her things, puts on her coat and pockets her phone.

"What are you going to do?" asks Raven after hugging her best friend.

"Forgive him, of course."

"You're going home, then?"

The blonde smiles.

"Yeah, but I have to make a stop at the store first."

Clarke now knows what she has to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Your thoughts about this are welcome and Kudos make my day! Chapter 5 will be up soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a week! Between Beliza's first anniversary, the teasers, voting for Eliza, and then the actual trailer, I'm drained! (and also, you know, real life...)
> 
> So there's the last part of this fic. I'd like to thank everyone for their support and love throughout this story. Kudos, comments, and your tweets really warmed my heart and made me feel so loved! Thank you so much for reading! And a BIG THANK YOU to Lili, without you I would never have been able to make the words sound so natural, thank you for everything, you're an angel. 
> 
> I hope you'll like this ending, and if, after watching the trailer, you think that Bellamy will die, Bellarke will be separated in S7 and will never happen, and that the end of the show will be sad and disappointing, I hope this will bring you some comfort. *HUGS FOR YOU*

Bellamy is sure that he's slowly going out of his mind and his reflection in the little mirror inside the bathroom agrees with him. No matter how hard he tries to ignore the puffy dark circles under his reddened eyes, or his exhausted, defeated face, left unrecognizable by his sleepless night, all the signs show that he's about to hit rock bottom. 

He turns his eyes away from his gaze and dips his razor in the water-filled sink before gently tapping it against the enamel. Then he applies it to his skin in a gesture made familiar by habit. Bellamy has been shaving every morning since he was sixteen years old. The end of the world itself couldn't stop him from carrying out this daily routine, not even when the end of the world ultimately means that his world slowly but surely crumbles around him. 

So, to avoid paying too much attention, he does what he does every morning by waking up and shaving. From bottom to top. From his throat still tight with emotions to the dimple on his chin. From his jaw to his cheekbones, again and again. Each passage of the blade over his skin keeps him from answering the questions that his mind asks despite himself. 

Is Clarke okay? 

Is Clarke coming back?

Will Clarke forgive him?

Clarke, Clarke, and Clarke again. And if it's not the young woman he has in mind, it's the fact that she's now carrying their child... 

What will she decide about this unexpected pregnancy?

Will she want him there for moral support, no matter what she chooses to do?

Will she decide to keep the baby? 

No, Bellamy refuses to answer these questions, concentrates instead on the rebellious hairs that the razor blade didn't cut, rinses his tool again, and starts over. 

However, his mind is more vicious than he imagined, and the questions start all over again.

How would they organize their space in their apartment?

Will they move out like Bellamy had hoped, or will they wait until the baby is born to make up their mind?

Where will it sleep, then? And is it a boy or a girl, by the way? And what names might go best for either if-

Bellamy lets out a cry of pain as the blade cuts the skin of his throat. Blood immediately begins to flow from the wound and the young man swears loudly at his clumsiness. Between his head injury last night and this morning, he's not thinking straight, clearly disoriented by the latest events. A good reason to take time off work, he says to himself, dabbing the injury with a clean, damp cloth.

He tries not to think too much about the fact that Clarke usually takes care of him every time he gets hurt or sick. He applies a small bandage to the cut and finishes shaving before rinsing his face with clear water and then drying himself with his towel.

In their bedroom, he makes the bed, although he didn't sleep there last night, opting instead for the sofa in the living room to recollect his thoughts. Then he puts on a pair of worn-out sweatpants and, perhaps because he's a bit melodramatic and needs to make himself suffer more than he already does, grabs under Clarke's pillow one of his T-shirts that the young woman likes the most, the one she's used to stealing from him to sleep or just to laze around on Sunday morning. The deep blue fabric is soft under his fingers and, when he passes it over his head, a whiff of Clarke's scent immediately reaches him. His trick works like a charm: Bellamy is definitely suffering more right now than he did a second ago.

Once dressed, he goes into the kitchen and decides to pour himself a cup of coffee. He certainly doesn't have the appetite to make breakfast. His throat is still tight from the emotions that suffocate him and his stomach is knotted with dull and heavy anxiety.

He sips his cup of coffee, sitting on one of the stools surrounding their kitchen island when his phone rings, telling him that a message has arrived. He has probably checked it a thousand times since Clarke left their apartment, but unlike previous times, there is a notification on his screen. He opens it, his heart beating. 

There, a message from Raven telling him that Clarke was at her place last night and Bellamy is finally breathing easier. Of course, all of his worries are still there, but knowing that Clarke was at her best friend's house takes a weight off of his shoulders. 

However, the relief is short-lived and the weight immediately returns when a flurry of fiery messages from Raven follows the first one. Yet nothing the astronaut says is news to him. He's well aware of all the bad choices he's made, just as he's well aware of what they might cost him. The young woman hits the nail on the coffin, telling him that Clarke decided to come home about an hour ago and should be back soon, and then threatening him that he had better not screw up again or he'll have to deal with her.

Bellamy knows from personal experience and having already witnessed Raven's anger, that she is not fooling around. He would never forget the day she eviscerated Finn in front of their entire group of friends (figuratively, of course. Bellamy is a cop, after all, no matter how much he would have loved to watch Finn suffer) and it does nothing to ease the anxiety that's already starting to eat him away at the thought of Clarke coming home. 

Bellamy barely has time to panic (which may be why Raven waited so long before telling him) that already, the lock on their door turns, the handle is pulled and the door opens to reveal Clarke in the doorway.

He only has a few seconds to take a deep breath before Clarke's gaze meets his own and the electric blue of her irises takes his breath away. There she is at last, with him, at home. He has to clench his fists to his side and stop himself from getting up from his seat, to stop himself from walking the distance between them and taking her in his arms. Instead of giving in to his urge, he looks her over in worry. Her messy bun, the dark circles under her eyes, the hesitation in her eyes, her fearful and closed expression, all these features are a vivid reminder that Bellamy hurt her. As if his guilt needed to be revived as if it wasn't already devouring him from the inside.

When the silence becomes too heavy between them, the impossible happens and Clarke offers a tiny smile, along with a "Hey" so small that he might not have heard it if his concentration wasn't set only on her.

"Hey," he replies, before wincing at the way his voice breaks with emotions.

He doesn't add anything, aware that he's already done enough, aware that this conversation shouldn't be about him and what he feels, about his inner need for forgiveness, but about her. And more than anything, Bellamy wants to know. He wants answers to those questions his mind has been asking itself over and over since the night before. 

Yet he can't take his eyes off of her, watches her as she takes off her coat and puts her bag down in the hallway. Her voice almost startles him when she asks, without looking at him:

"Do you have to work today?"

He clears his throat before answering:

"No, I took a sick day."

Clarke turns towards him gently and raises an eyebrow, puzzled by the news.

"Really? That hasn't happened in at least-"

"-two years, yes."

The last time he asked for a sick day was when his sister was injured in a motorcycle accident and he stayed in the hospital for almost two days waiting for her to wake up.

If Bellamy doesn't tell her the reason he didn't go to work today, it's because it's obvious. She must see it on him in the same way that he saw it on her. In the same way that he saw it in the mirror this morning when he was shaving: he's a mess. The same dark circles color the underside of his eyes, reddened by the lack of sleep and the tears he shed when he thought he had ruined his relationship with Clarke. He gave up the idea of brushing his hair, unable to tame his wild, brown curls that now point in all directions, the result of a sleepless night spent tossing and turning unable to shut off his anxious mind. Bellamy feels like a convict waiting for his death. 

She slowly approaches him and he stiffens, tries to look into her eyes to see how she is, what she decided, how much she resents him, but she doesn't give him a chance to read her. So when she reaches out to touch the recent cut on his throat with her fingertips, he can't stop the shiver that runs through him.

"What happened," she asks, unaware of the violent emotions her closeness causes him.

"I cut myself while shaving."

"Oh."

"That hasn't happened in a while either," he manages to joke while immediately cursing his dark sense of humor.

He feels Clarke's fingers twitching on his skin, as light as butterfly wings, just before she removes her hand. Words are rushing down his throat and on his tongue, and he's about to let them slip out just as she finally raises her head and looks into his eyes. Her bright ocean eyes are glistening with her restrained emotions, a stormy sky ready to pour out its tears of rain on the world.

"Clarke-"

"Bellamy, wait," she interrupts him before he can venture any further into the apology and promises he wishes to make. 

If he thought that the young woman could no longer surprise him after almost three years together, he was dead wrong. The words she says then leave him speechless.

"I shouldn't have left last night," she continues, hesitantly. "Leaving you like that, I hurt you and I'm- I'm sorry, Bellamy."

The young man swallows hard and nods without saying anything more. First, because he can't, and second because he'd be lying if the fact that Clarke didn't give them a chance and ran away like that didn't deeply affect him. Yet that seems to be lesser harm compared to what he has done to her, and he can't let that go unnoticed.

"I understand, Clarke. You don't have to apologize. It hurt me to see you walk away, yes. And I spent all night worrying that you'd never come back... But it's nothing compared to what I did to you."

The blonde shakes her head and she's still so close to him that her perfume, the same perfume that’s all over the shirt he's wearing, hits him for a second.

"It's not a matter of who hurt the other the most, Bellamy. You have your wrongs, but I have mine too. Apologizing for the way I acted is the least I can do."

She takes a deep breath before adding, resolute.

"And if it makes you feel any better, I promise I won't let it happen again. No matter how hard things get, I won't leave you again, and we'll face what's ahead of us together. I promise."

This time Bellamy can't fight his urge to touch her, to pull her against him. He gets up from the stool he's been sitting on since Clarke arrived, and she steps back slightly to give him room to straighten up. He's taller than she is now and she lifts her head to keep her eyes on him.

"Clarke-," he begins but doesn't need to say anything else, it seems, as she suddenly comes closer and puts her arms around his shoulders and neck as he wraps her waist with his. 

From the moment Clarke melts into his embrace, it's like all the stress in Bellamy's life instantly fades away. She is back in her rightful place, in his arms. Like thousands of times before, her chin rests on his shoulder while he breathes in the familiar scent of her hair. If he leaned over, he could nozzle the space between her shoulder and the nape of her neck, drop a kiss on her skin, murmur in her ear all the sweet words he'd save for later.

"We're a family," she quietly whispers in the hollow of his neck. "I promise I'll never forget it again, no matter how mad I am at you."

When she breaks away from him, her blue eyes glow with the same emotions she can certainly read in his. She smiles and lightens the mood with an encouraging:

"It's your turn now if you want."

It takes him a few moments to find his voice again and to choose the right words before he says:

"I'm so sorry, Clarke, for the situation I put you in. All I want is for you to be happy, and I want you to know that no matter what you choose, I'll be there for you. All I want is your happiness."

He waits for her response for a few seconds.

"Well, I am."

"What?"

"Happy, I mean. I'm happy."

The joy, relief, and love that crushes Bellamy at this moment are overwhelming. A tsunami of hope destroying everything in its path. His voice shakes when he asks:

"You are?"

It's hard to believe that one night was enough to change everything, that he'll get the happy ending he hoped for with all his heart but didn't think he deserved.

"Well... It's obvious the situation is far from perfect, but when I think about it, what I feel most of all is- I don’t know- joy? I didn't understand it last night when you told me, but now that I'm over the initial shock, I know what you meant."

"Does this mean that you've decided to-"

Emotion chokes his voice and Bellamy can't say the words, so Clarke finishes for him by saying:

"- to keep the baby, yes."

Bellamy won't let the joy that's overwhelming him explode, not while he feels there's still so much to talk about, not while guilt still lingers in his heart. Clarke seems to feel the same way. 

"But first, there are certain things we need to talk about."

She grabs his hand and takes him to sit on the couch in their living room. The fact that she keeps her fingers linked to his as they sit down soothes him and gives him the courage to begin.

"I know I screwed up, Clarke. I realized it the moment Monty told me you were pregnant. I don't know why I couldn't see it before, I was like- blinded by my worry for you and-"

"That's one of the things that has to change if we want this to work, Bellamy. You need to talk to me. I understand why you were concerned, I do. And I know you can't change that part of yourself, and besides, I don't want you to change, because the way you care about the people you love is one of the things I love most about you. But you should have opened up sooner, as soon as you started to worry. By keeping it all to yourself, you drove yourself crazy and that's what started this whole mess in the first place."

"I know, yeah. And I'm so sorry, Clarke. I've had a lot of time to think about all the bad choices I've made - trust me- and if I didn't say anything the first few times I saw you tired or odd, it's because I was afraid of being too controlling and of driving you away by suffocating you with my worries, like-"

"Like with Gina."

Bellamy lowers his head in shame and Clarke clenches her fingers around his palm in a comforting gesture.

Clarke hadn't met Gina but quickly realized that their breakup had deeply affected Bellamy. By the time they had met, four years earlier and barely a year after his relationship with Gina had ended, the young man was just getting over it and was full of insecurities that Clarke had helped him overcome with months of talks, just as he had helped her overcome those that haunted her. When he told her about how he and Gina had broken up at the beginning of their relationship, Clarke had promised him that she would never hold a grudge against him, that she would always tell him what she had to say, no matter how hurtful it might be to him. She wouldn't let what had happened with Gina happen again with her... It wasn't in her personality anyway.

"I know, Clarke, I know all that... But you know I can't help it. And when you act like that, when you forget yourself like that, I don't know how to react. So, yes, of course, I'm going to do everything I can to open up and share more, but you too, Clarke, you have to make an effort of your own."

The young woman nods, which surprises him, until she says:

"I've had almost the same conversation with Raven and I agree... I know I have a habit of putting other people's well-being ahead of my own, even my mother used to tell me that all the time. I can't afford to think like that anymore, not now that I'm pregnant."

"Even after that, Clarke," Bellamy replies. "I always accepted and admired that part of you, even when it hurt me to see you suffering because you had once again put other people's happiness ahead of your own. But- I need you, Clarke. And our child-"

Bellamy's voice breaks on this last word when he fails to keep the emotion at bay. Nevertheless, he collects himself and carries on, his voice shaking:

"Our child will need you even more. So you can't do that anymore, not if it costs you your health and well-being."

"Putting others before myself is pretty much the definition of my job, Bellamy," Clarke says, contradicting him. "I can't be a good doctor if I don't act that way every day-"

"You know that's not what I meant, Clarke," Bellamy stops her. 

He knew their conversation wouldn't be all easy and happy, but he didn't think he'd have such trouble finding the words, terrified of losing her because he'd said the wrong thing.

"I'm going to say something, Clarke, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way, okay? But when you were a kid, and your mother didn't come home at night, didn't go to your school plays, didn't attend your parent-teacher meetings, and sometimes you didn't see her on weekends... How did it make you feel?"

The guilt consuming Bellamy from the sadness filling Clarke's eyes is almost unbearable. However, he's working on doing what Clarke asked him earlier: talking to her about his fears, his doubts, rather than burying them inside him and waiting until it's too late to let them explode, and that's got to work in his favor, right?

Apparently so, because Clarke takes a deep breath and finally admits:

"I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you it was fine, Bellamy. There's a reason I'm a lot closer to my father now than I am to my mother, just like there's a reason they got divorced in the first place."

She sighs, tired, and goes on:

"But I'm not sure I know how else to do it."

"Just like I'm going to try every day, Clarke. By talking to me, and by listening when the people you love tell you that you look tired or that they miss you."

"In the end, it's all about balance, isn't it?" asked the young woman with a slight smile, and Bellamy was never more in love with her than at that very moment.

"Yes", he says. “And I'm sure of one thing too. If two people can find that balance, it's you and me, Clarke."

From the first day they met, they've always been able to balance each other. When one of them sinks, the other is always there to counterbalance. Clarke keeps Bellamy centered, and vice-versa.

"Okay. I promise I'll try my best too."

Bellamy nods. The relief he feels in that moment engulfs him and makes his brown eyes glow with buried tears. 

"Can you take me in your arms now, please?" the young woman unexpectedly asks, and his heart melts in his chest. 

All he can do is to open his arms and move further into the couch while Clarke puts her head on his chest and her arm across his body to hold him close to her as well. His arms tighten around her and there, at last, he can breathe again. A familiar feeling envelops him, like when he comes back to the warmth of his home after a snowy day, but in this metaphor his home is Clarke. 

"I forgive you, you know?" she whispers against him, and her warm breath pierces the fabric of his shirt as the words he was so desperate to hear warm him from the inside. 

"Even though what you did is pretty crazy, when you think about it," she sighs, and Bellamy thinks he can hear a smile in his voice, but it could just be that he's in a waking dream or a temporal anomaly that's taken him to another planet? 

"Do you remember what I said to you when we first met?" she asks next.

She doesn't give him the time to answer and say that every second of that evening is forever etched in his memory and goes on:

"I still believe everyone deserves a second chance."

He could cry at that moment, if he gave in to his tiredness, his nerves giving out, the feelings bubbling in his chest and his heart. But as his eyelids begin to burn with his restrained emotions, she asks:

"Bellamy? Can you kiss me now?"

And of course never, in reality, daydream or parallel universe, could he say no to such a request. He bends his head towards Clarke at the same time as she lifts hers, and despite the uncomfortable angle of their necks, their lips meet almost immediately. It's just a light, simple, gentle touch. Just their mouths resting against each other for one, two, three seconds, but the strong pulse that overtakes Bellamy at that moment could just as easily be the jolt given to a silent heart to get it to beat again. Then none of them pulls away from the other. He leans his forehead against hers and lets their noses tickle, their lips touch, their breaths mingle for long, silent minutes until they finally part, sure of one thing: no matter what happens, they will be fine. They're Bellamy and Clarke. 

When Clarke slips out of his embrace, her smile is bright, even if tired, and her eyes sparkle with mischief. In front of Bellamy's questioning gaze, she gets up from the couch while asking him to stay put. Without saying anything, he watches her return to the kitchen, hears her open her bag, and takes something out of it. When she comes back to the living room and sits down on the couch, she holds a package in her hands and hands it to him.

Bellamy raises an eyebrow.

"Open it," she tells him.

He delicately tears the paper, frowns at the black cloth folded under his gaze, takes it in his hands, raises it in front of his brown eyes, and unfolds it. Before him, the white writing catches his eye and his heart stops beating while simultaneously bursting out of his chest. 

At his side, Clarke looks at him intensely. When he doesn't react, she finally clears her throat and says:

“ _ My daddy is the best daddy in the world _ , I thought you deserved your name on a onesie, too…”

The garment falls on his lap when he pulls her into his arms to kiss her. This time, the kiss is hot and passionate although made difficult by their blissful smiles.

When he rests his hand on her flat belly and whispers a soft "I love you" on her lips, she knows that he's saying it both for her and the soon-to-be-born baby. She knows because when she answers "I love you too" she’s saying it to both of them too.

No matter what happens, they will be okay. They are Bellamy and Clarke, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you thought about it and know that comments and kudos are like the annual Bellarke hug for me! 
> 
> Zouzou (also, did you know you can find me on twitter at @kindzouzou ?)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! As usual, kudos and comments are really welcome, they are what encourage me to write more and more. More than half of this fiction is already written, so the rest should be coming soon!


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